Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up feeling tired, cranky and a bit ill, and then you are running your never-ending list of errands and you are distracted by your whining toddler in the backseat, who you can’t really see because she is turned away from you because it is safer for her to ride rear-facing until she is two and she is not two for a few more weeks. Where was I? Ah yes… so you are cranky and tired and your toddler is whining in the backseat, and you can’t quite see her but you are trying to calm her down anyway, and suddenly, just before the parking lot where you are supposed to turn in to do the grocery shopping that never ends, there is a car parked on the side of the road, but he is sticking out quite a bit, and you are driving your kinda-new giant mom-mobile that you are still not quite used to, and then before you realize what has happened, you have side-swiped that car that was parked on the side of the road but was slightly sticking out. Oh yeah, and that car that you side-swiped was a cop car. And then your daughter wisely chimes in from the backseat, “Uh-oh!”

Today has been a tough day. Not as tough a day as many people around the world are having – fighting illness, war, abuse, hunger, poverty, and the inability to use the correct there/their/they’re – but more of a day full of annoyances and frustrations. Minor in terms of the scope of problems that I just mentioned, but that knowledge doesn’t make me feel less frustrated. And I am trying not to feel guilty about that. Sometimes we just need to feel frustrated. To give into to it for a minute before we can get over it. So I am.

My daughter hasn’t been feeling well for the past few days. She has had a fever and has been waking up through the past few nights, which then causes her to be cranky during the following days because she is tired. So I have gotten little more than a couple of hours of restless sleep for the past few nights, which has led to me also being cranky during the day. So when my daughter has total meltdowns because I won’t allow her to put a plastic bag over her head, or she throws the lotion on the floor-causing it to explode all over the carpet, or when she smacks me the face with the force of a miniature prize-fighter, my own exhaustion and crankiness cause me to want to have a total meltdown. What can I throw? Who can I smack in the face?

Here’s the thing though. It will pass. One night soon (please God, please) she will feel better and get a good night of sleep. And then so will I. And life will be good again… until it’s not. That’s the way parenting goes. It is tough. It is wonderful. Often both at the same time.

So, I am not writing this post to ask for advice on how to get through this. And I am certainly not writing this post to give advice on how to get through a similar situation. I am simply writing this to remind everyone that Tough happens. It happens to the best of us. And to the not-even-close-to-the-best-of-us. It happens in big problems and small annoyances. And sometimes we let our frustrations get the best of us. Sometimes we even throw things or have meltdowns. And sometimes that’s ok… as long as you are not at work. Or at a restaurant with tablecloths. Or the grocery store. Or on public transportation. Or really anywhere in public if you can help it.

I am woman, hear me roar!!! (in the privacy of my own home, of course.)

Exactly one year ago, I gave birth. No, not to the little bundle of feces, vomit and joy that I named Lyla, but to the little bundle of feces, vomit and joy that I named The Good, The Bad and The Saggy. Similar to a new baby, this little blog has given me many sleepless nights, much laughter and a few tears. But most similar to a new baby, over the past year this little blog has grown up a lot, and has caused me to grow up as well. But don’t expect me to stop using the F word or laughing at fart jokes just yet. I’m not dead. And farts are funny.

So, to celebrate a year of successful blogging (How do I measure success? Hey, I’m still here, right?!) I will do as many a mildly successful sitcom has done before me and not-so-sneakily repackage old material as a brand new episode and call it a FLASHBACK OF SAGGY’S GREATEST HITS. Hey, after a year of blogging, I deserve to be lazy!

So, without further ado, I now present a compilation of some of my and your favorite posts from the past year. Perhaps some of these you will read for the first time, perhaps you have already read them and wish to reread, perhaps you think I am lazy and don’t give a shit, perhaps you are having an affair with a six-fingered circus clown. Who knows, regardless I don’t judge. Enjoy!!

First, what better place to start than the beginning? This was my very first post about all the things that change when you become a mother. (Please note that I have overused ellipses from my very post, and continue to do so to this day. Who says everything has to change?):

Thanks again everyone for supporting me by reading the blog and with your comments, messages, questions and ideas. That’s what this is all about for me… supporting one another through this crazy journey we call parenthood. And continuing on this crazy journey… NEXT WEEK I WILL BE RELAUNCHING THIS BLOG with a new look, new address and lots of new posts for you to read. Oh, and did I mention there will be wine?! For me of course, but hey, wine is wine. Stay tuned!!

It’s been a while since I have posted a random thought. I am not sure if that is because I have become less random or because I have less thoughts. Either way, here’s one that has been plaguing me lately:

What the hell do I do with all these lovely Holiday cards???!!!

First of all, as someone who sent my very first holiday cards this year (only to family, but STILL) I now know first-hand how much work goes into them. Someone took time out of their busy lives to create, order and/or buy the cards, find my address, buy stamps, lick the envelopes (gross!) and get them in the mail in time for me to receive them and (theoretically) hang then for the world to see. They are filled with delightful photos of people I love, painstakingly chosen from thousands of sub-par photos taken throughout the year. Some have personal messages, handwritten with care, but all have been sent with love and wishes for a great holiday season and happy new year.

But, now that the holiday season is done and the happy new year has begun… what the hell do I do with them? Throwing them away makes me feel like an asshole. The thought of tossing your friends’ children’s faces into the recycling bin next to junk mail and way too many wine bottles is sickening. However, keeping all of these cards to add more clutter to my already post-holiday clutter is even more sickening.

What to do, what to do. I guess, like most things that I don’t want to deal with, like oil changes and my anger issues, I will just leave them for the hubby to contend with. Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?

I can’t bear to throw away cards… unless you send me a cutesy picture of your cat dressed up as Santa. Then it goes into the trash upon arrival.

I spend most of my days teaching my daughter stuff. Important stuff like words, numbers, colors, how to read, how to poopoo in the potty, and how to say “Cheerio mate!” with a British accent. But as much as I teach her, I swear that she teaches me more. Yesterday’s lesson: How to Make Your Day Kick Ass!

You know those nights when you come home after a long, tiring day and just want to flop down on the couch, shovel carbs into your face hole and stare blankly at the TV? Or perhaps you have been home with your kids for an equally long, tiring day and you just want to flop down on the couch, shovel carbs into your face hole and stare blankly at the TV. But instead of some well-deserved couch time you get to do the Evening Scramble because there is dinner to be made, baths to be given, and finicky husbands – I mean children – to feed. You know those nights? Well, that was where I was last night.

It was a Monday, and a Monday after a vacation, at that. My husband had just gotten home from work, tired and hungry. I was scrambling to clean up the aftermath of the natural disaster that is my daughter’s dinner (can I get some FEMA up in here?) while simultaneously making a fabulous dinner – ok a dinner – for my husband and I. My daughter was running around, begging for attention. So, to distract her for the 2.4 minutes I needed to finish cleaning up, I turned on some music. It was Foster The People Pandora if you must know (I’ve had it up to HERE with Elmo singing! Maybe the next Elmo could have a less annoying voice, huh? And perhaps not be a pedophile. ALLEGEDLY**) Anyway, I cranked up the tunes and got back to the Evening Scramble.

A few minutes later I turned around to check on my daughter, and saw that she was dancing. Beautifully, maniacally, joyfully, hand-clappingly, booty-shakingly dancing with all her might. If you have never seen a one-year-old dance, there is truly nothing better in the world. Usually I don’t make a habit of posting many photos or videos of my daughter, because I feel like she deserves some semblance of privacy. Although, for some reason it doesn’t bother me to share her every word, action and fart with the world, but hey, it’s my blog and I will share if I want to. Anyway, I don’t usually share videos, but this video of her dancing is pure happiness, so I feel like it is my duty to share it with the world. Check it out on my Facebook page (and like my page while you are there!) If you can watch this video and not smile, then you are dead inside. Pack your shit and go try out for The Real Housewives.

So last night my daughter was dancing in her amazing way, and as my husband and I stood watching her, she ran over and grabbed our hands and pulled us to the dance floor (aka living room). Yes, the kitchen was still a mess and the dinner was beginning to burn, but when a kid commands you to shake your ass, your ass gets shaken. So we danced. And then we danced some more. At first, I was trying to teach my daughter some dance moves, but she looked at me like I was crazy and kept doing her thing. So instead I let her teach me. I copied HER moves, and man was it fun! And now, in yet another act of kindness, I will teach you.

Step One: Put on some booty-shaking music. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as gets your booty bouncing.

Step Two: Turn it up!

Step Three: Turn it up more!

Step Four: Turn it down already! Do you want to make your child deaf?! What kind of parent are you anyway?

Step Five: Close your eyes. Start to move your body. No one is watching you. No one cares if you are on-beat, in-time, or cool at all. Freeing right?

Step Six: Now that no one is watching you, just relax and let your body take you where it wants to go. Clap your hands, jump up and down, kick your legs, twirl around until you fall down, laugh until you cry.

We all danced like that for another 20 minutes or so, until it was time to get back to the business of life. You always have to get back to business eventually, that is the way that life works. But when I got back to making my (slightly charred) dinner, I was doing it with a smile on my face and my ass still twitching to the beat. I felt more energized and much happier than if I had flopped down on the couch as I had wanted to. It was a great way to end the day, and I am going to try it as often as possible. And then, when I am done dancing and my heart is doing the samba and my stomach aches from laughter, only then I will flop down on the couch, shovel carbs into my face hole and stare blankly at the TV.

Ok, so here’s the post that I was trying to write when my fingers told me that I really wanted to write about something else…

It’s no secret that your life changes drastically when you have a child. Getting pregnant is an investment. You invest 10 months of your time, 100% of your hopes, dreams and fears, plus your body, your personal comfort, and sometimes even your health, knowing (and hoping that everyone who has kids wasn’t lying to you in some F-ed up prank) that everything you put into it will pay off once you are holding that sweet little baby in your arms. And then, of course, you spend the rest of your life investing in this child and hopefully reaping the benefits before the stock market crash that is called the teenage years hits… but I digress.

Like any long-term investment, along the way there are many gains and losses. I always knew that when I had a baby I would be gaining…well… a baby. (I didn’t graduate Cum Laude for nuthin!) I also knew that I would lose a few things. Mostly inconsequential things such as sleep, sanity, working brain cells and hopefully at least 60% of the baby weight. However, over the past year-and-a-half there have been a few losses and gains that I didn’t count on.

Losses:

My Hair – I had heard a lot of horrifying tales about different physical things that happen to you when you have a baby, but no one ever told me about the hair thing. Besides my boobs, my hair was pretty much the only thing that actually looked better when I was pregnant. My ass may have looked like cottage cheese in a mesh sack, but my hair looked like a “Don’t hate me because I am beautiful” Pantene model. That’s why it was even harder to take when, about six months after having my daughter, it started to fall out. In clumps. And then, to add insult to injury, all these tiny little baby hairs started growing back around my hairline. Now, when I put my hair in a ponytail, I look like a nerdy girl at my Bat mitzvah… you know the frizzy-haired girl with the food in her colored braces. That one. Sigh.

My Time – No surprise here. I knew that this baby thing would be a time-suck, I just didn’t realize that even when she is at daycare or napping, 100% of my time would be devoted to her. Between all the laundry, shopping, worrying, cooking, cleaning, obsessively calling the doctor, worrying, researching the best strollers, car seats, educational toys and preschools to waste, I mean spend, my money on, I now have no time to do all those things for myself.

Sleep – Again, no surprise that I would get less sleep after having baby. However, what I didn’t realize is that when you become a parent, you lose the right to have a good night of sleep ever again. Even though my daughter now sleeps through the night, I do not. Why? Because at the slightest sigh, cough, turn, creak or fart I bolt upright, jamming the monitor to my face to make sure she is still in one piece. I can only imagine what this will be like when she is teenager out with friends. Or a boy!!! Do they make a video teenage monitor?

My mind – dlfkjath[naf’dpijht[pajf’nadl;fjhdonladj. ;atlebtpiebgldnvbdlnd;kla!! That’s how I feel at least 68% of the time.

Vanity – I guess this is not really a surprise either, but I always (disillusionedly) thought that I would be one of the cool moms with great bedhead hair and casual yet stylish clothes. You know, like Jessica Alba. Now I realize that if I was not Jessica Alba before I had a baby, then motherhood certainly won’t turn me into her. Instead I have greasy bedhead hair and casual yet decidedly unstylish clothes. Sue me, I’m tired. Not to mention, ah;bvdo;vnoiwubgvfwnpvopwirjfkm!

My keys, wallet and the ability to match shoes – At any given time, I have only one of the three.

My Boobs – I never had big boobs but at least they were perky. Now they are smaller than ever and somehow still saggy. Well, at least I got a cool blog title out of it.

My identity – Pre-baby I used to be a lot of things: Hotshot producer (at least in my mind), smartass, fun-loving friend, spontaneous wife, wino (ok, I am still a wino), foodie, party-goer, book-reader, dream-chaser. Now, I am pretty much one thing, and one thing only: Lyla’s mommy. Seriously. When I meet other moms at the playground, they ask what my daughter’s name is, but never mine. When I talk with friends, family, and my hubby most of our conversations revolve around Lyla. Most of the time I don’t mind this. She is my favorite topic of conversation. She is my greatest accomplishment. But sometimes I miss… well, me.

Yes, I have lost a lot of things since having a baby. I could actually go on and on with this list, but I will spare you more of the Tale of Two (saggy) Titties. Instead, let’s focus on the gains. First and foremost, I gained a daughter. Nothing on the list of Losses can even compare to how much I have gained from her. However, there are a few more gains that have surprised me.

Gains:

Friends – Personally I have never been a fan of mommy groups. I just don’t like the idea of forcing myself to be friends with someone just because we have kids who are the same age. We may have that in common, but you wear a scrunchie and so we shall never be friends. However, since having my daughter, two wonderful things have happened: First, I have grown even closer to the friends I already have. I may not talk to them as much, but something about the bonding that happens when you complain about your kids has drawn us closer than ever. I have even grown closer to those friends who don’t have kids. When I see how much they love my daughter it makes me love them even more. The second thing that has is happened is that, despite my mommy prejudices, I have managed to make a few new amazing mommy friends. We came together because we have kids around the same age, but we have stayed together because we generally like one another’s company. I have even “met” some amazing mommies (and daddies) through this blog that I now consider friends. Sometimes there is nothing you need more than for another mommy to tell you that you are not totally failing. I am even beginning to rethink the whole mommy group thing. Do they have mommy wine clubs?!

A new career – Pre-baby I had a great job as a producer. I made good money, I worked a lot of hours, and most of the time I really liked the work. However, I always dreamed about going back to writing. Writing is my love. It is the only thing in my life that I do because I have to do it. I am not myself if I go very long without putting pen to paper (my preferred form) or fingers to the keyboard. But I was scared. Freelancing is tough. I knew it and my boss reaffirmed it when I tried to quit the first time. (Long story short: I chickened out and worked there for another year.) But once I found out I was having a baby, the money seemed a lot less important than the time I would miss with my daughter by working those long hours. I finally had the courage to quit my job and start freelancing. I make less money but have never been happier. Except when my computer breaks and I can’t call IT to fix it. Then, I curse my freelance status and stress-eat.

A really weird belly button – I never cared much about my belly button. I never liked it, I never hated it… until I had a baby and was left with this weird one. Now, I have an irrational disgust for mine. It is stretched out and kind of saggy. And I have stretch marks inside of it. And that misguided belly button ring that I got on spring break when I was 17 has come back to haunt me, ten-fold. You were right, mom!

A new outlook – Since becoming a mom my priorities have definitely changed. My daughter is the center of my universe, as she should be. But besides my priorities, my whole outlook has changed. Little annoying things don’t matter as much, and little amazing things matter so much more. I may have less of an identity, but I have become more of a person.

The ability to say wise things like, “You just don’t know what it is to be a mom until you are one.” – I always got annoyed when people would say this before I was a mom. Now I am a mom. And now I can say that being a mom is the most amazing thing in the world. Earth-shatteringly, mind-bendingly, pants-peeingly amazing. So amazing that no amount of losses could ever tip the scale. So amazing that I just can’t tell you how amazing it is until you are a parent and you find out for yourself. Yes, I can now say this kind of thing and then smile with self-satisfaction, just like those other annoying moms. And damn, it feels good!
photo credit: Clint Chilcott via photopincc

You know those days when you have absolutely nothing to do? The house is clean, the shopping is done, your chores are finished. There is no work to be done, no emails to answer, no calls to return. There are no playdates or doctor appointments. There is absolutely nowhere you need to be. When you are almost bored in the best way possible. When your biggest decision is whether to sit down on your couch and catch up on that book you’ve been meaning to read or to lie in your bed and take a blissful nap.

You know those days? Yeah, me neither…

“I think today I shall sit in the sun and read my book all afternoon.” Said no parent ever.

It’s been a couple of weeks since I wrote a solid post, and to those of you who plan your life and all major decisions around my blog posts, I sincerely apologize. To the rest of you aka all of you, I apologize as well. As you may have gathered from my mostly short yet bitter posts over the past few weeks, I have had a bit going on. My daughter got Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease, which was an agonizing week of high fevers and Contagion-style quarantine. She was recovered for approximately two days before she spent a night throwing up for reasons unknown, and then miraculously recovered again for about a week. She then got Erythema Multiforme related to the HFMD virus, which caused even higher fevers and horrible hive-like lesions and sores all over her little body, including the inside of her mouth. Fun for the whole family! After a week of that madness, she recovered for a day – just long enough for us to overconfidently decide to celebrate with a weekend getaway. On the first day of the vacation she got a nasty cold complete with, yes, a high fever.

Needless to say, it has been a tough month. Definitely the toughest month since my daughter was born. And it feels like maybe the toughest month since I was born. I have had some hard times in my life, though admittedly not as hard as many. I have had my fair share of illnesses, surgeries and hospital stays. Somehow though, it seems more difficult to take when it is happening to my daughter rather than directly to me.

Of course, it hasn’t been all bad. There have been some great moments when she is feeling better and all seems right in the world. I have learned a lot of lessons. I have gained a bit (ok, a teeny, tiny bit) of patience. I have discovered that I can be stronger than I ever thought I could be. However, I have been working so hard to be a good mom that I haven’t had much time to be a good… anything else.

I haven’t had much time to be a good friend. Many a phone call, text and email has gone unreturned in the past month. And when I do manage to find the time to chat with my friends, it’s mostly just to vent. I end up talking so much about what’s going on in my life, that I rarely ask what’s going on in theirs. Jerk!

I haven’t been a good worker. I have turned down a lot of work simply because I just can’t take care of my daughter and take care of work too. I had a choice to make, and as a freelancer, I was in the position to make it, so I chose my daughter. I wouldn’t change those decisions, but it doesn’t exactly make me the most reliable person to hire.

I haven’t been a good homemaker. Not that I usually excel in this arena, but my usually feeble attempts at cooking, cleaning and hosting have gotten beyond pathetic – we’re talking frozen dinners/baby stuff covering every surface of the house/turning my underwear inside out so I don’t have to do laundry – pathetic.

I most definitely haven’t been a good wife. When I am stressed, sad and angry at life, or even when I am frustrated with my daughter, I have to take it out on someone. I obviously can’t take it out on my daughter and I don’t have life’s email or phone number, so the back-up choice has been my husband. Fortunately I picked a partner who doesn’t usually feel the need to take his frustrations out on anyone, but who understands me enough to know that I do. And so he lets me. Usually.

And out of everyone, the person I have treated the worst is myself. I have stopped exercising, managed to take stress-eating to whole new level of disgusting, and some days have decided to forgo even the most basic levels of general hygiene (I guess I should apologize to my husband for that one too.) And as a general warning to anyone who encounters me on the street, I am prone to break down in tears for no reason, and just as likely to start muttering to myself in a scream-whisper. Oh yeah, and there’s a strong chance that I will be wearing a dirty bathrobe. At first I thought I might be pregnant. Now, I realize that I have slowly been losing my mind.

I am a half step away from ribbon roll earrings and rollers in public. Next stop: Eating my own hair.

But things are looking up. My daughter is finally recovering from the latest installment of Outbreak 2012, hopefully this time for longer than a day or two. So, there will be no more excuses. No more of the selfish friend who only talks about herself. No more of the wife whose husband is slightly afraid he will wake up in the middle of the night to find her standing over him with a butter knife. No more main-lining red wine/coffee/entire sleeves of Oreos. No more half-assed work. No more depressing blogs (for now). No more messy house…Ok, ok. Who I am kidding? I have a toddler. The house will always be messy. Deal with it… or you may wake up to find me standing over you with a butter knife.

I swear that being a parent is the craziest roller coaster in the world.

My daughter is sick yet again, for the third week out of four weeks. This time with a nasty cold and again with a fever hitting above 104. She was up at midnight night crying inconsolably. Probably because she was tired but couldn’t sleep, scared because she couldn’t breathe, and angry because Mama couldn’t fix it. She was screaming and crying, and I was crying because I couldn’t help her. And I was tired because I haven’t once slept through the night in the past month. And it was midnight. And I was thinking, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Then, morning came. And the sun was shining. And my daughter woke up feeling a bit better. And she hugged me tight and said “Lub you” in her little, hoarse, stuffy-nosed voice. And I thought, “I don’t know what I ever did before this.”

My daughter is sick, yet again. Fever spiked up to 105.7 last night. Hives covering her entire body including her face, and it makes me want to weep every time I look at her. No sleep for many nights due to fever and hives. One car with a busted transmission even though it only has 60,000 miles. The other car I used to sideswipe a parked car in the street in front of the doctor’s office today. Hey, my sick daughter was crying in the back and did I mention I am tired.

All I can say is that life is being a real dick right now. So if I don’t return phone calls or clean my house, or if I polish off an entire bags of chips in one sitting (hypothetically of course) or yell at inanimate objects (also hypothetically)… don’t blame me, blame life.